Mind Over Matter
by Jasmine 282
Summary: A correction of Meow, on my part - or more accurately, a nitpick. M/L


  
Disclaimer: I'm too worn out to even be funny here - angst sure wears you down. I don't own them. Please don't sue.  
  
Timeline: Meow  
  
Author's Note: This was written earlier this year, but I'm finally getting around to posting it now! It was inspired by a discussion on the Cape Haven list, but truth be told it had bugged me for over a year. Read following note at the end of the story.  
  
Enjoy. But beware of angst. ;-) (Like I would give you anything else???)   
  
Thanks go to Jeanne for her quick beta work over Thanksgiving.  
  
**

Mind Over Matter

**   
  
_Move.  
  
Just move._  
  
He stared so intently, it might have looked to someone else as if he was willing them to move with his mind. For all intents and purposes, he was. 'Mind over matter,' Bling had always told him.  
  
"Mind over matter is not working," he thought grimly.  
  
He leaned forward and stared at his feet...again. For fifteen minutes he'd been staring. Nothing moved. His legs were as still as they'd been since he was shot last year.  
  
Frustrated, he threw his upper body back into the chair - the only part of him he could move. He turned off the exo-skeleton resting on his waist. Why wasn't it working? Technically speaking, it was working, no shorts or any problems - except for the fact that he still wasn't walking. Two weeks of work, not to mention sneaking around Max and having her steal the chip, and he had nothing to show for it. There went tonight's surprise too.  
  
But it didn't mean he was going to give up. It was time to talk to Sebastian again. Twisting his upper body around, he looked for his wheelchair behind him. With a sigh, he realized that it was a good ten feet away from him. In his excitement, he'd transferred to this chair and pushed away the wheelchair not wanting to see it again. He'd thought he'd be up and about walking.  
  
Looking down at his legs, he also realized that he did not want to drag around the extra weight of the exo-skeleton getting to his chair. Carefully, he stripped off the exo-skeleton and his sneakers. Ever since he'd been shot, shoes seemed pointless to him. He only wore them in front of other people, but alone in his apartment, he went without them. It was only Bling's incessant nagging that got him to wear socks to keep his feet warm. He'd be barefoot if he had the choice.  
  
Crossing his legs, he lowered himself to the floor with a grunt. He scooted himself across the wooden floor over to his chair, his shoulders burning by the time he was there. Cursing, he told himself he had to work out more with Bling on his upper arm strength and shoulders. One year later and he still didn't have a lot of muscle. Sure he could transfer himself and he started playing basketball, but compared to most of the guys on the court - he was skinny.  
  
Of course, an hour ago he didn't think that mattered anymore. He thought he might get some muscle back in his legs if anything. Unless Sebastian had an idea, it didn't look like that was going to happen. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up into the chair. He looked at the exo-skeleton lying on the floor, then shaking his head, turned and went to his office. Calling up Sebastian on web cam, he waited for his friend.  
  
"Did it work?" Sebastian asked as soon as the connection was made.  
  
Logan gritted his teeth. "No. The chip worked perfectly though. But I couldn't move one muscle."  
  
There was silence as Sebastian thought it over. Logan looked away from the screen, staring off into space.  
  
"Logan, what level is your break?"  
  
Bringing his attention back to the computer, Logan frowned. "T-8, why?"  
  
"The idea behind the exo-skeleton is to enhance strength of soldiers correct? By diverting the nerve signal to the motors, the body is capable of lifting incredible amounts of weight with the legs but without conscious effort. In a soldier, the nerve signal is not broken, as is yours. So where the exo-skeleton rests on their waist, it picks up everything. Your break is much higher. The exo-skeleton is not picking up anything because it's still dead there," Sebastian explained.  
  
Closing his eyes, Logan rubbed his forehead and sighed. So this is what it all came down to. He could walk only if his break was lower. _Perfect. Just perfect._  
  
"Thanks, Sebastian. I appreciate all your help," he finally responded.  
  
"I'm sorry, Logan. I wish I had better news," Sebastian's mechanical voice apologized, though there was no sign of the pain he felt for his friend.  
  
"It's not your fault. I should have realized it earlier-" Logan was interrupted by the phone ringing. He looked at the phone, hesitant.   
  
Finally he picked up the phone, his voice a little cross. "Hello?"   
  
"Logan, it's me," Max answered.  
  
"Hey Max, I can't talk right now. I'll see you tonight, ok?" He said quickly then put the phone back down.  
  
Looking back at the screen, he asked, "Where were we?"  
  
"She's not going to be happy with you," Sebastian replied.  
  
Logan glanced at the phone then back at his friend. "She'll be fine. She'll probably figure out I was busy with business or something," he offered without a second thought.  
  
"She's still not going to be happy with you," Sebastian repeated.  
  
Logan shrugged. "I'll cook her dinner, we'll play a game of chess, and life will go on."  
  
"You were going to walk for her tonight, weren't you?"  
  
Glaring at the screen, he replied, his voice laced with anger, "Yes, but that's not going to happen now is it?"  
  
"You can still celebrate without walking."  
  
"It's our one year anniversary, I wanted to give her something special," his voice lowered as he remembered Max's reaction just a month ago when he stood up for her.  
  
"Give her something special or was it for you? It's also the anniversary of your accident."  
  
"Yes, let's just bring up that lovely bit of history. I'm so proud of that day," he shot off sarcastically. He didn't need to be reminded of his other anniversary in a couple days. It had been weighing on his mind heavily as he worked on the exo-skeleton. If he'd been walking, then it wouldn't hurt so much. But it looked like it was going to be the first of many years to come dealing with his disability.  
  


*****

  
Max stared at the phone in her hand, the dial tone signaling that it was dead.  
  
"Well?" Original Cindy looked at her, expectedly.  
  
"He hung up on me," she answered, dazed. "He said he couldn't talk to me."  
  
"Is this good or bad?"  
  
Max looked up at her friend. "I'm not sure. But it sure as hell ain't normal. Something sounded wrong with him."  
  
Standing up, she grabbed her jacket and keys. "I'm going over."  
  
Original Cindy ran in front of her. "Wait a minute. One minute you're calling to cancel, and now you're going over because he hung up on you? Girl, you're not feeling well. You said yourself that you couldn't go like this. Just call again later."  
  
Pushing past her, Max said, "No, I gotta go now. Look, I'm not gonna jump him if there's something wrong with him. I can handle myself." She turned to O.C. and smiled.  
  
Original Cindy raised an eyebrow. "If you believe that, then go ahead. But I'm warning you, it's going to be hard for you to keep your hands off of him with his cute little glasses and stubble no matter if there's something wrong with him."  
  
Max's cheeks flushed red. She dropped her jacket and keys and ran to the shower.  
  


*****

  
The door to Logan's penthouse rattled on its hinges as Max slammed it shut behind her. "Logan!" she called out.  
  
With a sigh, Logan peeked out from the kitchen where he had just started cooking dinner. He wasn't really in the mood anymore, but he didn't want to cancel on her.  
  
When Max found him, she stopped, hand on her hip and eyes cold. On her ride over, she'd mentally gone over the phone call over and over. Each time, her anger mounted and erased any signs of hormones and heat. It figured she finally found a way to put it out of her mind now.   
  
"What the hell was that about?" she demanded.  
  
"I couldn't talk," he replied, turning back towards the kitchen.  
  
"Why not? You didn't even give me the chance to reply!" she cried out, following him, dumping her jacket on a barstool.  
  
Logan stopped and turned to face her abruptly. "Maybe I didn't want to talk to you."  
  
"Logan, what's going on?" Max looked at him scared.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Oh, yes there is. The other day you were all excited, and now you're brushing me off. Talk to me. _Please_," she begged. She would have yelled at him, but she knew there was definitely something wrong with him. He'd been depressed before and this was beginning to show the telltale signs of it again. And she did not want to find his bloody remains.  
  
He looked up at her; her eyes eerily sad and moist just like _that day_...when he thought about killing himself. God, he was an idiot. Picking up her hand, he led her to his office. The exo-skeleton was standing in its frame again, though Logan didn't know what to do with it now.  
  
"It didn't work," he finally said. "I'm sorry."  
  
Max looked between the exo and Logan, finally understanding what had happened. "Sorry for what? Do you really think it mattered to me? Ever?" Kneeling down in front of him, she took his hands in hers.  
  
"I wanted to walk for you. I wanted to be more-"  
  
"More like a regular, sex-driven guy who can get it up?" She asked bluntly.  
  
Logan looked at her surprised. "I..."  
  
"Have you ever considered why we're so close, Logan? That maybe because you're not that type of guy, because you didn't confront it, we didn't have to worry about it? Trust me, if you had continued your flirting and may I call it, stalking, we might not even be celebrating this one-year anniversary. I don't like guys who just crawl all over me, wanting sex. It's not to say I'm glad you were shot, but the person you are, and became is the person I..." Max looked away, feeling the heat rising in her.  
  
"You what, Max?" he prodded, knowing there was more she wanted to say.  
  
Her eyes looked like a deer caught in headlights in the middle of the road. She was scared. This was new to her. She couldn't say it.  
  
"I can't do this," she quickly replied, standing up and running to get her jacket.  
  
"Max!" he called after her. Catching her in the hallway, he grabbed her arm, making her stop in her tracks.  
  
"What can't you do? What's wrong?" he asked, gently.  
  
"I can't explain. I...please, let me go. I don't want to hurt you," she whispered, tears streaming down her face.  
  
Logan let go of her arm, but with a strangled voice replied, "There are things we don't want to talk about, but I think they need to be said. It's time. It's been one year Max. One year." He looked up at her expectedly, ready and waiting for her to give in, to just let it all go free.  
  
Backing up, he went to the living room and transferred to the couch. He hoped she would follow.  
  
Two minutes later, she sat down next to him.  
  
"In two days, it'll be a year since I was shot, and I don't think I'm ready to handle it. That's why I worked so hard on the exo-skeleton. I wasn't ready to face that day. It only makes it more permanent. I'm in this chair for the rest of my life and I can't do anything about it," he opened up.  
  
Max picked up his hand and squeezed it. Together they sat there holding hands in the quiet.  
  
"I'll be here for you, Logan. It doesn't have to be that hard. You're not alone in this. So you're in the chair, you're also alive and you're helping others. But most importantly, you've been here for me as a friend, and I don't know how to repay that. You're the first one who's seen the real me, and you didn't freak," she replied, her voice breaking.  
  
"Thank you," he whispered.  
  
They sat silent again as Max tried to find the right words to tell her side. She owed it to him. Though it was only the beginning of what Logan was feeling, he had opened up to her, and she felt honored. She wasn't a soldier to him, and he'd given her the chance to feel like a normal girl.  
  
"I go through phases. It's because of my feline DNA. Four times a year I'm in heat and I can't control myself," she spoke up.  
  
"Now?" he asked, uncertain, but slowly things began to make sense.  
  
Max nodded.  
  
"Were you even going to come tonight?" The phone call suddenly registered in his head, and he realized her intent.  
  
She shook her head. "I didn't think I could do it. But then you sounded off. There was something wrong with you. I had to come."  
  
"I'm glad you came." He squeezed her hand.  
  
Max faced him and smiled. "So am I."  
  
Logan let go of her hand, and brought it up to her cheek. Brushing aside some hair, he felt that he could truly open up now. "I love you, Max."  
  
Closing her eyes tightly, though tears ran down her cheeks, she hiccupped. She took a deep breath, then opened her eyes.  
  
"I love you too, Logan."  
  
He grinned, then pulled her close, softly kissing her tear stained lips, loving the taste and the glorious feeling that came with it. She was his and he didn't need to walk to have her.  
  
  
Author's Note: Please don't kill me! Just use your imagination if you want to continue this story. I'm sorry, but I don't write SML...trust me, you don't want to read my attempts!  
  
Note #2: As my friend told me a year ago - 30% of 0 is 0. ZERO! So there's no technical way for the exo to help Logan. Besides why give up the great arms and sexy wheels for a stupid screeching piece of metal? (Yes, I am biased. Just ask my boyfriend; I like him just the way he is!) Also, I'd like to know who didn't drool over the swaying scene in Flushed??! *sighs*  
  



End file.
